


Arturia's Feelings

by KnightOfBalance



Series: Mordred And Arturia [3]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Denial, Family Issues, Internal Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 11:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21301382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightOfBalance/pseuds/KnightOfBalance
Summary: Well all know how Mordred feels about her father and the actions she took against her...but what lies in the heart of the King Of Knights about this subject?
Series: Mordred And Arturia [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528370
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Arturia's Feelings

Arturia Pendragon wasn't a stalker. She did not in fact go around watching people without their knowledge. That was against her code of chivalry and thus dishonorable. And she would never do something dishonorable.

No, what she was doing, as she stared at her knights (and one _former _knight), was simply her duty as a king. 

She had spotted some of her knights, Gawain, Agravain and Gareth, around her former knight-turned traitor Mordred. At first she brushed it aside. After all, they could simply be working together under Master's orders. But then two weeks passed by and if anything, they were hanging out even more. At that point, Arturia was suspicious and decided to see if Mordred was up to no good.

Something she was becoming increasingly doubtful of as Gawain smacked the flat of his sword on Mordred's head.

“OW!” Mordred cried out, glaring at her opponent, “What was that for?!”

“Your stance is all wrong,” Gawain scolded, brushing off her glare without a care, “Your legs are too low, you need to put your foot forward more, you need to relax more- It honestly astounds me that you survived as long as you did at the Round Table with such a poor form.”

“Who cares about form? If it works, why should I fix it?” She snapped back.

“It doesn't work though,” Agravain butted in, “Against monsters, it might work. But any half decent swordsman with equal or greater strength would be able to overpower you. And you can't simply punch your way to victory all the time.”

“Why not, it worked in Camelot and the Grail Wars!”

This time, Gareth decided to step in.“Didn't you die in your Grail War? Just saying a bit more skill could have saved your life.”

“SHE WAS A WITCH WITH POISON POWERS!”

The three elder siblings laughed at their youngest's frustration and, to Arturia's suprise, she simply yelled about it more instead of her usual response of intimidation.

_'Why is she so accepting of them, especially after how she acted in Camelot?' _ She thought bitterly, gritting her teeth,  _'All I did was do my duty as a king and she had the nerve to-'_

“Arty?”

The King Of Knights jumped, turning at the previously unknown person to see her friend (and unfortunate look-alike) Jeanne D'Arc.

“Ah Jeanne, it is only you. I apologize.” Arturia sighed, relieved that it wasn't a member of her Round Table or one of her more...vocal friends. Jeanne seemed to ignore her, instead walking around her and into the room she had been peering into. After taking a good look, she looked back at Arturia with a confused look.

“I didn't think you were one to spy on people.”

“I am not spying! I'm simply observing from a safe distance,” She insisted, her face flushing from embarrassment, “After all, a king must be suspicious if her knights are consorting with a known traitor.”

Jeanne looked at her friend with a worried look, “Known traitor? Are you talking about Mordred?”

“Of course! It would not be the first time she would have manipulated my own men against me.”

“Arty...” Jeanne sighed, “I really think you should talk to her about-”

“For what reason do I owe that traitor a talk?” Arturia asked a bit too coldly even for her.

“Arturia, do not mistake what I say for her sake,” The holy maiden said, “But I do not believe this grudge you hold against her is healthy in the slightest. I remember when she first approached you, you refused to even so much as look at her. You barely communicate with her when you're on missions together. And now here you are, spying on your own knights and speaking as though she would conspire against you even though she's done nothing of the sort since you arrived here. You've done nothing but act unlike yourself in regards to her.”

Arturia's face scrunched up, “You were not the one who she betrayed without so much as an ounce of regret over a birthright she was never meant to have.”

“Does she though?” Jeanne retorted. “Does she not regret her actions? You have never spoken to her about this and she has made no actions against you even though it has been month,” Her look shifted from one of worry to one of resolution, “Not to mention that I don't believe you truly hate her.”

Arturia opened her mouth to object, only for her friend to persevere, “Think about it. I have seen how you talk and act around those you do not like or even hate. You do not openly ignore them or act as though they do not exist. You reject them to their face, like you did with Gilgamesh. Not only that, the fact that you do not forbid your knights from interacting with her despite knowing they will follow your wishes shows you do care. And finally, I cannot help but hear a familiarity to how Mordred speaks of you the same way.”

“And there's your problem,” She finally interjects, “You speak as though we feel the same towards each other. So surely that means you know we hate each other!”

“... Does it?” Jeanne repeated from before, “Again, does she truly act as though she hates you?”

Arturia looked her friend dead in the eye, trying to tell her that it was indeed true...but, for some reason, she couldn't do it. She couldn't say with certainty that Mordred acted as though she hated her so-called 'father.'

With that, the ruler walked away, leaving her friend stewing in her own contradictions.

_ **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX** _

Arturia was certain that there had to be some kind of evidence that the Knight Of Treachery had spoken ill about her. It shouldn't be hard, given her loud attitude and disdain for her. So she began searching for proof that the knight had spoken ill of her. Her first stop, a certain conqueror that had seem to take a liking to her former knight.

“Arturia Pendragon!” Iskander, King Of Conquerors, bellowed, greeting her as an old friend as he ushered her into his room. They sat down at his table, which seemed comically small for the giant man, as he poured her a drink, “It's good to see you! I had thought we would never get the chance to speak again!”

“It's good to see you too, Iskander.” She replied back, “I hope you are doing well.”

“But of course! For someone such as I, this battle for humanity has been a boon for myself! So many new people to meet and fight! So much more to learn! So many new comrades-in-waiting!”

“Speaking of such,” Arturia took a sip of her drink before continuing, “I was hoping to talk to you about Mordred.”

“Hm? Oh, keeping a close eye on your knights eh?” The tanned man laughed aloud, “I don't blame you. Her ferocity and power on the battlefield reminds me of some of my best retainers! Alas, I believe she will never join my ranks.”

The swordswoman raised an eyebrow at his statement promoting him to continue, “One day, after a particularly brutal battle that we both triumphed over, I had asked her to become one of my retainers. After all,I couldn't pass up such a chance. Though it appears that chance never existed, as she insisted that her sword was promised to her king.”

“Do forgive me if I find such a thing hard to believe.” She responded in spite of the strange swelling in her heart, “Especially given how she must speak of me.”

“Speak of you? King Of Knights, do you not know how highly she thinks of you?” He quizzed, “I have never once heard her speak ill of you and she takes any criticism of your reign as a personal offense. Why, when I made the mistake of repeating my old thoughts about you, I thought she was going to attack me there and then. 'How dare you speak of Father that way?!' 'You know nothing of Kin Arthur's reign!' 'I'll have your head if you utter such words again!'” He glupped down his drunk with a mighty grin, all while Arturia stared at him in angry disbelief.

“Do you seriously think I'd fall for such a thing? No one would say such a thing after things she did!”

Iskander looked at her, his face softening into one of pity, “You know, I said something similar to her that day. I asked her that if she felt that way, then why did she rebel? She looked to the ground said with a look of bitter regret: 'I was a fool for rebelling. I was angry at Father for rejecting me...when all she really did was do her duty as the king. I wish I had never rebelled.'” He pushed his drink to the side, looking upon his peer with a solemn expression, “Why did you come here Arturia?”

She huffed at him, “I came here for proof of Mordred's ill will against me but clearly you are not willing to tell me the truth.”

“I see,” He responded, “Everything I have told you today is the truth. She truly does feel that way about you, King Of Knights. Claiming it to be false will not help you.”

“And for what reason do you think I would believe it to be false?”

“Because it is easier to be angry at her that way,” Iskander said, “You want to believe she thinks ill of you because it makes it easier to be angry at her.”

“That makes no sense! Why would I want to be angry?” Arturia shouted.

“Because the only other option is to accept the pain,” He looked her dead in the eye with the same look he gave her in the Einzbern garden, “I have seen that look in your eyes before. You are running from the truth again, because accepting it is painful. You wish to replace it with something that will never be, just as you wished to do in our war.”

She gritted her teeth in frustration. She wished it was only from his continuous refusal...but it was also because she once again couldn't find it in her to reject him, “Are you saying that what I feel is wrong once more, King Of Conquerors?”

“I never said that,” He told his guest, raising and showing his hands, “I opposed you then because it was the wrong thing to do as a King. But this matter is not a matter of kingship but a personal matter. I do not dare to say I would know what to do, because it is ultimately what you think is right. All I can do is tell the truth and advise.” The Greek king slammed his hands back onto the table as he grinned at her, “Now how about I get us some more drinks?”

“Very well.” Arturia accepted, downtrodden that her thoughts were even murkier than before.

_ **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX** _

If what Iskander said was true then surely she would be able to find someone else to back up such a claim, right? And if anyone knew of Mordred's true feelings on the matter- It would be the person she talked to the most, Dr. Henry Jekyll.

“Oh, Arturia,” Jekyll said upon seeing the knight approach in Chaldea's library, What can I do for you?”

“I understand that my request is unusual,” Arturia stated, “But I ask that you answer me truthfully and without deceit.”

“Hm...” The doctor hummed, clearly suspecting what she was about to ask, “I will do my best.”

“Very well,” Arturia took a deep breath and exhaled before continuing, “How does Mordred speak of me?”

Jekyll sighed rather loudly, “That is...a complicated one to answer. When I first met Mordred in London, she seemed...weirdly conflicted when it came to you. At first, she boasted that she hated you and would destroy your kingdom. But...as time went on, she kept saying things like 'Would Father approve of this?' 'Am I doing right by Father?' and 'I don't want Father's Londonium to fall again.'”

Arturia's widened at the information she heard. But the doctor pressed on, “Then she was finally summoned to Chaldea. I remember that she went off to challenge you...and that you refused to even acknowledge her. I remember that day clearly...because it was the first time I ever saw Mordred cry.”

_Thump!_

Arturia felt her heart throb as a small stab of pain pierced through it. She didn't know-She didn't _understand _why but those words hurt to hear. Shouldn't she not care that her actions caused such a thing to the one who betrayed her?

“If I had to summarize my answer to you,” Jekyll concluded, “I would say that she outwardly claims to hate you...but that in truth, she values you above everyone else.” Arturia felt another thing pass through her, this time a taste of something bittersweet, keeping her silent as Jekyll looked at her, “Artura.”

“Yes?” She responded, unable to muster anything else to say that moment.

“I have answered your question so I ask that you answer one of my own,” He demanded, eyes flaring with determination, “What is it that you feel towards Mordred?”

“...Why? Do you intend to tell her of this?”

“Of course not, this is clearly a personal matter for you. It would be unbelievably rude of me to speak of this to anyone else,” The handsome doctor rejected, “But Mordred is my friend and I wish for her to be happy. If I were to know how you felt then it would be most beneficial for me in the future.”

Arturia stood there, unable to reject his demand...nor give him a clear answer as he did.

By all rights, she should hate Mordred. She stabbed her in the back, betrayed her trust, destroyed the kingdom she spent her life serving and even ended her life. She should feel nothing but a cold rejection toward her, the same she felt towards Gilgamesh for his sins against her. Or at the very least, a righteous anger for her actions as she felt towards Iskander for his mockery of her ideals.

But that wasn't it. Her feelings weren't cold nor righteous in nature. They were uncontrollably hot and personal. The very thoughts burned her and filled her with rash anger. They scrotched her mind and made it frayed. They were..._painful._

And yet, she couldn't even claim that all she felt was pain. Her heart panged with jealousy at how easily her knights could be with Mordred, it swelled with pride from her loyalty, it throbbed in pain at her sorrow and it felt so...strangely happy to be confirmed in how highly she was regarded.

Arturia gritted her teeth as she fought back the tears in her eyes. Nothing about this made any sense to her!

“I don't know.” She finally answered before storming off as Jekyll shook his head.

“Of all things to have in common, why did it have to be this?”

_ **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX** _

She hadn't even made it to her room when she bumped into him.

“I'm sorry.” Arturia muttered before recognizing the man she bumped into.

“My king,” Lancelot, his Saber self, said, “It is me who should be sorry. I should have been aware of my-” He stopped his apology partway, noticing her conflicted expression. “My king, is everything alright?”

Arturia looked to the side, considering lying for a moment before realizing he would see through it. “Yes...” She answered. She spent the next few minutes explaining what she had gone through and what she had learned. All the while, her best friend stood in silence with a look of sympathy on his face. By the time she finished, Lancelo nodded in understanding.

“I see, that is rather...complicated.” He noted, crossing his arms, “You're hurt from her betrayal...and yet still find that you care for her on some level.”

“Yes,” Arturia confirmed, feeling so helpless before her own conflicting emotions while her most trusted gave his sympathy.

“My king, while I do not presume to say that I fully understand the conflict within your heart...I do believe I might have some insight.” Lancelot offered to her, “As you are aware, I too have a child of mine own...well, two now. But what I have never divulged before is that I did not choose to have Galahad.”

“What?” She breathed with her knight nodding.

“His mother, Elaine, enchanted me much as Morgan did you and approached me years later with Galahad in hand, informing me of his lineage.” Lancelot smiled despite the weight of his story, “I will always remember the day I saw him, eyes shining with love and recognition. I thought that day that I would love this child no matter what, that this child could do me no wrong. … I was wrong.”

“Here we stand, fighting for the sake of humanity while my son, a Knight of the Round Table, refuses to fight and leaves his own host to die along with the rest of humanity! “ Lanelot's face hardened with rage, something even Arturia saw very few times before, “For his sins against the honor of the Round Table, against the Master he swore to serve, against even the one who considered him her kin-I will never forget his transgressions.”

“I see, so you hate him.”

“No,” He replied as his expression became one of sorrowful affection, “Even though I am disgusted by his actions...even though I can never let go of what he has done...if he were to appear before me and ask for my forgiveness, for my love: I would give it to him without question.”

“But...why?”

“My king, Arturia. The love of a parent for their child will persist and endure in spite of even the greatest of sins,” He informed, “There is no rationale, no logic, no sense behind it. That love is beyond such things...even if we wish it wasn't so.” He looked his king eye to eye, begging her to listen, “Once again, I do not presume to fully understand the conflict in your heart. Only you can be certain of such things. For all I know, you truly do not care for Mordred and I am mistaken. But, in my humble opinion, deep inside, you love her as I love Galahad.” Lancelot broke their gaze and stepped beside her, putting his hand on her shoulder, “What you do with that love, reject or embrace it, is your decision to make, my King.”

With those parting words, Lancelot left his king alone to her thoughts.

_ 'My decision,'  _ Arturia repeated in her head. Though she couldn't make such a decision yet, she was certain of one thing now.

Beyond her pain, she did care for the knight who called her Father. It was just such a shame she was also the one who had betrayed her the most.


End file.
